Shadow's Touch Shadar Jasad
by imriel452
Summary: In the Second Age, the winds of change blow across the lands. Read the history of the Wheel of Time, from the day Lews Therin Telamon gains the Ring of T'Amyrlin, through the Bore, and beyond the taint to the World we now today. PLEASE R&R!
1. Prologue

**An Explanation:**

**Shadar Jasad is the result of years of obsessive reading of the Wheel of Time books. I can not put it any more simply than that. In my room are pages of notes, with book and page references, to every mention of something or someone from a previous Age or time, in the case of the Second Compact or the Free Years.**

**My favourite book is The Shadow Rising, mainly for Rand's revolutionary trip into the glass pillars of Rhuidean, and seeing the history of the Aiel people heading further and further back until we get our only true **_**detailed glimpse of the Age of Legends. If you continue to read this story as I continue to write it, you will see that I have stolen some of the dialogue from these portions of The Shadow Rising, although I have written from a different viewpoint to that of Rand's ancestors.**_

_**When Robert Jordan died, I decided that now was the time for me to start writing what I thought would be a short story, but as I have planned and expanded it, I have realised that this story could quite easily be as large as one of the Wheel of Time novels itself. This story was never meant to be a prequel to the Wheel of Time novels; like all fan-fiction, it is non-canonical. I have however, been as true to the texts as is humanly possible.**_

_**Despite this, I have expanded it in ways that some readers may find shocking or, indeed, disappointing. For example, whilst I have kept all details revealed about the previous lives for the Forsaken accurate, I have developed them to the point where you will see sides of people such as Mierin Eronaile and Tel Janin Aellinsar, that have never been explored, yet I believe that they deserve to, for despite their flaws, it was the Bore that truly made them who they were, and it was the Bore than gave them the ability to be more.**_

_**There are also other areas that I have looked into. Was the Creator worshipped in the Age of Legends? If so, how? How were the ceremonies conducted? Who were the Nine Rods of Dominion and what was their purpose?**_

_**I want to end this with a dedication, to James Oliver Rigney Jr. who would never have approved of this, to Harriet McDougal, Tom Doherty and Brandon Sanderson, who have helped shape the Wheel of Time during the writing process, and after the loss of Jordan, and to those who have read and supported this story.**_

_**May you shelter in the palm of the Creator's hand for all time.**_


	2. Chapter One As They Awake

Shadow's Touch: Shadar Jasad

Prologue:

In His deep sleep, He dreamt, and remembered. Each time was different. He woke and touched the world directly, and other times He only had a finger over the edge before His Age-old enemy thwarted him.

The one they called Dragon.

In a thousand times a thousand forms, both male and female, the Dragon would always be His enemy, even on those occasions when He had turned the Dragon, and made him His champion. Yet each and every time, He was defeated. Alone or with those who followed Him, it made no difference.

There were those who believed that His brother protected them from Him. They did not know the truth. His brother created and abandoned, leaving Him free to corrupt. Yet always, the Dragon was there to heal the damage that He caused.

Yet the Wheel of Time was exactly that, a Wheel, and what had happened before would happen again. He knew that. But this time, He would break the Wheel, and the Lord of Chaos would rule.

If He could have laughed, He would have. But all He could do was wait, and sleep, and dream.

For even Gods could dream.


	3. Chapter One: As They Awake

Chapter One:

As They Awake:

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Second Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Skyspire Mountains. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time._ But it was a beginning._

South the wind blew, through the fabled spires of Tzora, and past the immense towers of Mar Ruois, rustling the leaves of the Chora tress that lined every street in the cities, rippling out an aura of calm and tranquility. Further yet it blew, through the open window of a small house in the country, blowing the curtains of the bedroom slightly.

Lews Therin Telamon lay awake, looking at the woman who still slept next to him, black hair like midnight contrasting starkly with the paleness of her skin, and the white of the bed-sheets. Easing his way out of his bed so as not to wake her, he donned a robe and opened the door slowly.

Walking in the dark, he ran his fingers along the walls of the house he had grown up in and inherited once his parents had passed on into the Creator's Hand. Whilst small, it suited his purposes well, speaking of simplicity, and a time when the responsibility that was now his did not burden his shoulders.

Making his way into the kitchen, he smiled as he saw an old Da'shain already working away. Gardim had looked after his father during the final years of his life, and after he died, his loyalty shifted to the son. Lews had offered him his freedom countless times, yet he knew that it was now less of a sense of duty to him as an Aes Sedai, but out of love.

"Gardim, you should be asleep."

"As should you. You know how Mierin is when you aren't there when she wakes up."

Lews sat down, and Gardim made him a strong tea which he held in both hands. He smiled as the Da'shain followed suit. There were many who believed that he was too lenient when it came to the discipline of his servants.

"Mierin is a wonderful woman, Gardim…"

"But…" The old Da'shain made a hand gesture, signifying Lews to continue what he was saying. When he didn't, Gardim continued for him. "You are not in love with her anymore. She loves the man you have become, and she has forgotten the man that you were."

He nodded slowly. He and Mierin had been lovers for the past twenty years, since the day they had both been raised as Counselors to the Hall. They had already both been renown before they had become full Aes Sedai, Mierin considered one of the greatest female minds of the Age, and with a natural grace and beauty that struck anyone who saw her. He was a noted historian, a passion he had inherited from his mother, and an acclaimed writer, several books already widely received around the world. His strength in the Power was rivaled only by a few, male and female, and his standing amongst the Aes Sedai had increased dramatically in the last twenty years. Now today, it could reach no further.

"She loves the attention she will get being the woman of the First. She loves the power. She has forgotten the man."

Lews slammed his cup down on the table, hot tea spilling over the edge.

"Don't you think I know that! I have fooled myself for the past five years thinking that she might remember the love between us. But there has been no hope, and now, there never will be."

Getting up from the table, Lews turned to his old friend, saying, "When she wakes, take her wherever she wants to go. Let her know that I couldn't go through with this anymore. Let her know I love her."

Gardim nodded slowly, asking no questions as to where he was going or why. When his charge was like this, nothing would be gained from asking questions.

Walking out the side door that lead out to the grounds of the house, Lews wandered through the gardens until he came to the old plum orchards that had been on the estate long before his family had bought the land. Sitting under his favourite tree, the one he had climbed so often as a boy, he closed his eyes, seeking the Oneness.

Today was the day when his life would change completely. Before he would have said that when he first showed signs of being able to Channel, a gift neither of his parents had. Or when he was Raised as a Counselor. But now; now he truly understood what 'Servant to All' truly meant.


	4. Teaser Chapter: Tzora

Whilst I write the next parts to Shadar Jasad (as I am not writing in a linear structure, but main events first them filling in the blanks), I am posting this future chapter… if you want to read it fantastic, but if you wish to read the story in its full chapter by chapter glory, then don't read below!

Thanks: Adam J

Mehda looked out of the window at the flow of refugees leaving the city. When there would have once been a dozen sho-wings to carry a thousand people a piece now horses and wagons were the best they could do, a few decrepit jo-cars carrying children too small to walk. Everyone had left or was leaving, save for the Da'shain.

The Head of the Da'shain in Tzora walked slowly towards the gates of the city, where they had assembled. Close on ten thousand had stayed behind, after Mehda had sent away the young ones. The Way of the Leaf included the children as well, but no-one deserved to die so young. The Aes Sedai had taken them away earlier in the day and Mehda had spoken to Jonai, the Chief of the Da'shain.

"_Mondoran marches on Tzora, old friend." Jonai said to Mehda, "and then he will move onto Paaran Disen."_

_Mehda nodded slowly. He understood what Jonai was asking of him. "The citizens need time to leave the cities."_

"_They already leave Paaran Disen. They are afraid of the Tainted. Solinda Sedai…she says that Shadar Nor and what remains of the Concord have plans. For the future. For the Da'shain." He took a deep breath. "Mehda, you must do everything you can to stall Mondoran. The Wheel turns, and it may be your stand here that allows it to keep turning."_

_Mehda looked at him. "Do you ask me this as my Chief, or as my friend?"_

"_As your friend." Jonai put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Alnora and I intend to lead the Aiel at the gates of the City. The Da'shain stood with the Nym and the Ogier as the Great Forest burned around them. They protected the children at the Academy. They died at Mar Ruois. We serve the Aes Sedai, and we serve the citizens of this world the best way we can. Do not think I ask this of you lightly. I know what the cost will be."_

"_It is not just some Tainted channeler who cannot remember who or what he was that will be attacking the gates of the City. This is Jaric Mondoran…second in command of the Companions under Lews Therin, the T'Amyrlin's protégé himself. He will strike and he will tear the City down stone by stone…"_

"_Mehda, I do not fear death. The leaf lives it's appointed time, and does not struggle against the wind that carries it away."_

"_The leaf does no harm, and finally falls to nourish new leaves." Mehda finished the old saying. Nodding sadly, he looked at Jonai, "It shall be as you ask, Jonai. I shall lead the Da'shain against Jaric Mondoran." Then he laughed. "Do you remember the Singing? Thousands of Da'shain gathered in a single place, voices rising to the heavens…do you ever think there will be Singing like that again?"_

"_One day, my friend. One day."_

Walking through the open gates of Tzora, Bahira approached him and hugged him tightly her long brown hair cascading down her back. Pulling away, he looked into her eyes, shocked to find wrinkles framing them. Had they been married that long?"

"Is everything ready, shade of my heart?"

"Yes my love. Frightened but ready."

Walking among the crowd, patting shoulders and saying a few words to individual Aiel, he worked his way to the front of the group.

"My friends, my family my people. We stand here today, because we are the one and only hope that the citizens of Tzora have from the Tainted One, Jaric Mondoran. According to the last reports from the Aes Sedai, he will be less than one hour away from us right at this moment! I know that many of you are afraid. I stand here before you, and I tell you this unashamedly. I am afraid! But I am also Da'shain, and I serve the citizens of this glorious city, and if the only way I can serve them now is to lay down my life, so that thy can escape, then I will know I have lain down my life for a just cause!" He paused as Aiel cheered him. "If any of you decide that you wish to leave, you may. I will not stop you." No-one moved, and he smiled. "I thank you Da'shain. I am proud to have served as your leader."

Stepping down, he walked away amongst the Aiel and Bahira ran after him, putting a hand on his arm. "That was a noble thing you did, Mehda. You did not have to say what you did."

"We need to stand together, Bahira. We are the Torahs last hope…the one thing that can buy them more time to escape…" He stopped as he heard a shout rise from the Aiel towards the front of the crowd.

"MONDORAN!" As the cry was taken up by the rest of the Aiel, Mehda pushed himself to the front of the crowd to face the man who was certainly going to kill them.

Jaric Mondoran half walked, half limped as he came across the open plains towards the Aiel, who were forming themselves up into lines in front of the gate. His long hair was matted and lank. His once fine clothes were torn and soiled, and he held one arm to his side as if it were injured.

One Aielman stepped forward, an older man who stopped slightly. "Jaric Mondoran Aes Sedai, we beseech you, in the name of the Creator please, cease this madness…"

"Madness!" The man roared. "I will show you madness!" Channelling _saidin, _he wove something around the old man, who clasped at his throat, then collapsed dead on the ground in front of him. Jaric picked up the body, and cradled it like a child might cradle a favourite toy, and he wept.

It was then that Mehda opened his mouth, and Sang.

Jaric looked up, staring blankly at Mehda, and then at the rest of the Aiel as they started to sing in unison, Mehda directing the Song, weaving images of the Hall of the Servants, the great cities, of Seed Singing in the fields with the Ogier and the Nym. Stories and legends from Ages long past, of Marese who cured all, Anlada the Wise who knew the answer to any question, to when the Great Ones of the past danced among the stars in the night sky.

Jaric raised his hands, and one after another, started to strike the Aiel down. Some were swallowed by holes in the ground, ripped open form underneath them. Others were lifted high in the air, and then dropped. Others burned like the pyres of Mar Ruois, flaming torches that screamed in agony before eventually falling silent a charred husk on the ground.

But still the Aiel Sang, closing their ranks, regrouping and rejoining into lines, trying to reach out to the shattered mind of Jaric Mondoran. Mehda felt tired, feeling the strain of Singing for so long, but he also felt exhilarated. Singing was in their blood and in their bones, as deep as the Covenant. It was who they were. Closing his eyes tightly, he breathed deep and Sung louder, changing the tone. This time, he wove images of the war, the loss of life, the destruction that followed in the wake of the Forsaken and their creatures. The glory of the Aes Sedai, male and female, who rode into battle at the head of the charge first in jo-cars and sho-wings, then on horseback. The victories that were won under the banner of the Light.

To no avail.

Jaric continued to weave web after web of death, piercing the Aiel with Arrows of Fire. Suffocating them with webs of solid air, making them scream with agony as he attacked their bodies from within, weeping loudly as he slaughtered them, one after another.

The carnage around Mehda was devastating. The thousand Aiel had stood at the gates of Tzora as Jaric had approached, and now less than ten remained standing. Bahira held tightly onto Mehda's hand, Singing continuously with him.

Jaric sat among the bodies, arms wrapped tight around his knees, muttering incomprehensibly to himself. Every so often, he would look up and almost notice the bodies of the Aiel around him, almost being aware of the few who continued to Sing to him in a hope of remembrance.

A hole opened up in the earth beside Bahira killing four as the earth engulfed them. Two more were burned alive by a ball of fire almost casually thrown towards them. Mehda squeezed his wife's hand tightly. They were the only two Aiel left alive in Tzora.

Weaving a web of air, Jaric started to suffocate Bahira slowly. Her eyes gazed into Mehda's, and he could see the terror in them. Crying softly and uncontrollably, Mehda clutched his wife to his chest as she died in his arms.

Jaric stared at the weeping Aielman, head tilted to one side, as if confused at what he was seeing before him. He sat down beside him, stroking Bahira's hair. Mehda pulled her away from him, and when he Sung this time, he wove images of his life with her. When she had lain a bridal wreath down at his feet, and he had stammered over his acceptance. The births of their children. When they were growing up. When their daughter had been accepted into the Academy. Every memory that Mehda could think of was woven into his final Song. He did not know how long he was Singing for, he had lost track of time. How long since Bahira had died?

Closing his eyes, Mehda stopped Singing, and looked up at the man who he knew would end his life.

"_Light, just let it be swift," _Mehda thought to himself. _"let me join Bahira."_

Mehda felt a tightening in his chest. He could not see the web, but he knew he was being suffocated to death. As his vision started to dim, he could see Jaric Mondoran crying again, and for one brief moment before his eyes close forever, Mehda was sure he could see a flash of awareness in his eyes and a look of horror at the things he had done on his face.

Wandering through the streets of Tzora, Jaric looked around as if awestruck at the majestic building that surrounded him, the spires that seemed to reach to the heavens themselves. He picked up a small doll that had been dropped by one of the Tzorans when they fled the city. He looked at it, his curious stare matching that of the one-eyed toy, with its stitched red smile and blonde wool hair. Cradling it softly in his arms, he murmured "I'll protect you."

Walking out of the gates of Tzora, he took one last look at the great city, before weaving a web of pure fire, and setting light to it. It burned white, turning wood to ask and cracking stone to dust in an instant. The spires of glass shattered, falling to the floor, melting amidst the blaze. Jaric turned briefly and looked as the city collapsed, white hot fire flaring up into the sky, fusing stone and metal and ash into a giant sheet of glass a mile across.

Turning back, Jaric walked away from the ruins of the once great city of Tzora, following the road that led to Paaran Disen. With the doll dangling from hi left hand, he started to whistle as he walked away.


End file.
